Plum Creek
by M C Pehrson
Summary: Story #58 When Spock, T'Naisa, and 12-year-old James visit Jim Kirk in Idaho, there are surprising results.


"Spock's coming!" Jim Kirk shouted up the stairwell, but all was silent in the loft. Had Antonia even heard him?

He went up to the second floor. Then climbing the loft steps, he knocked lightly and opened the door. Inside, daylight poured through windows and skylights, illuminating Antonia at her easel. For a moment he just stood there, captivated by his wife's Latin beauty as she wielded her paintbrush.

A sudden clatter arose from the play area in the corner. Spying her father, Elena True cast aside her toys.

"Daddy!" she cried and rushed over, all outstretched hands and strawberry-blonde curls.

Jim swept her into his arms. "Hey there, big girl."

Tru laughed in delight.

Antonia glanced up from her canvas. "Your big girl has been pestering me to go outside. Can you take her?"

"Sure," Jim said. "Did you hear me a minute ago? Spock's in from Vulcan and he's coming for a few days. He's bringing Jamie. You realize it's been a year since the custody hearing? I bet that boy's grown. Oh…and this time Spock is bringing T'Naisa, too."

Antonia's face clouded with worry, and Jim knew the reason for it. They turned as one and stared at a portrait hanging on the loft wall. Years ago, Antonia had done the painting of Spock's wife, Lauren, and surprised them with the gift. Later it incurred damage from the earthquake that destroyed San Francisco. Antonia had intended only to repair the painting, but after Lauren and Teresa were murdered, an inspiration moved her to include Teresa's image. Now the look-alike mother and daughter gazed serenely from the restored canvas.

Antonia had made the change without Spock's knowledge, and therein lay the problem. Jim could only guess how the Vulcan might react to it, and now there was the added, most delicate complication of Spock's new "wife", T'Naisa.

"Well," Jim said, "just hide it. That's what we've always done before, whenever Jamie was here."

Antonia sighed. "One of these days, Spock's going to ask us about it." Her expressive brown eyes settled on Jim. "And T'Naisa's coming? She'll need her own bed…won't she?"

Jim shrugged. "As far as I know, they don't actually…sleep together."

"Hm," Antonia mused, her brow arching.

oooo

T'Naisa almost wished she could have remained behind, all by herself, at T'Beth's little guest house in Arizona. It felt uncomfortable staying in the former Admiral Kirk's home, among people who knew the sordid details of her past and the awkward facts of her present life as Spock's wife of convenience. It was different with T'Beth. They were both of mixed blood, of a similar age, and T'Beth even had her own share of skeletons in her closet. They could laugh now, remembering some of it—even the dagger stab T'Naisa had received at T'Beth's hands in defense of her father. That particular moment had become something of dark joke between them.

Jim and Antonia Kirk were pleasant and hospitable, and it was funny hearing three-year-old Tru say "Uncle Spock" as she clamored for his attention. Still, it embarrassed T'Naisa to share the little girl's bedroom while her so-called "husband" bunked with Jamie in the guest room.

She was here solely because Jamie had begged her to come along. He had insisted that she visit the Idaho horse ranch that was so dear to him, so T'Naisa did her best to appear cheerful even while her heart was aching. Would she ever grow used to living with unfulfilled desires?

She had no right complain. She had known what she was entering into when she first suggested the sham marriage, hoping that it would help Spock keep custody of his son. And the judge _had_ ruled in Spock's favor. The fact that Spock had not thanked her—even once—was typical of the traditional Vulcan mindset. It was only through her love for Jamie and the grace of Yanash that she was able to face her marital circumstances with any degree of peace.

Soon after they arrived, Jamie pulled T'Naisa into a corral where a shaggy little creature nuzzled their hands.

"This is Paco," he said, "the burro I told you about. When we lived in Arizona, Teresa played with him all the time…until…" His voice trailed off as he thought of the terrible day his mother and sister were murdered.

T'Naisa reached out and stroked his dark hair. Looking up, he saw the warmth in her eyes and felt so much better that he almost told her a secret—that at one time there had been two paintings of importance in his home. The ugly Chagall—the _famous_ painting—and the painting by Aunt Toni, the one Jamie liked best of all, the beautiful portrait of his mother. After the earthquake, the painting had gone back to Aunt Toni for repair and that was the last Jamie saw of it.

One day on Vulcan, he had worked up the courage to ask his father about the painting. With a pained look Father replied, "Antonia never returned it, so the portrait must have been damaged beyond repair. Don't trouble her with any questions. You know that she was very close to your mother."

And so Jamie kept his silence, but now that he was at the ranch, he had made up his mind to look for it.

The very next morning, his chance came. Aunt Toni drove Tru and T'Naisa to her art gallery in Pinehaven. Father went out on the ranch with Uncle Jim, who was showing some horses to a potential buyer. Jamie said that he was tired, that he had not slept well, and it was the truth. All alone in the log house, he went upstairs and entered the loft.

His heart beat fast as he stood gazing down the long, sunlit attic. A scent of oil paint and turpentine hung in the air. In one corner he saw Aunt Toni's altar; she was Catholic, like him. The sight of the crucifix brought a stirring of conscience. Those times when he had stayed at the ranch, the loft had been off-limits. Why? He could see Tru's toys, so obviously _she_ came here.

Nearby, something made a creaking sound and he jumped with fright. This had been a bad idea. What if Uncle Jim caught him snooping around?

Jamie almost turned and ran downstairs, but he had come this far and there might never be another opportunity. Drawing a deep breath, he began to search, hurriedly sorting through stacks of framed landscapes leaning against a wall. The very last frame looked familiar, but he couldn't be sure—not until he pulled all the others away and sun from the skylights struck the canvas.

Jamie gasped. It was the portrait! Not one face, but _two!_ Lovely and blonde, so much alike, Mom and Teresa _together!_

oooo

By the time T'Naisa started home from the gallery, she was feeling much more comfortable around Antonia Kirk. Despite Antonia's fame as an artist, she was very friendly and down-to-earth. As the groundcar sped above the mountain road, they found plenty of things to talk about, and there was even some laughter.

"You're so different than I expected," Antonia said frankly. "Spock is half human like you, but he never laughs. He must find you…what's that word? Fascinating."

T'Naisa's smile faded. "Annoying is more like it. We were raised very differently. My father was the human one. He didn't want me to learn Vulcan discipline, and it shows." She gazed out at the rugged countryside. "What a beautiful place to live. I've spent most of my life on the space station where my father worked, or on Vulcan."

Antonia glanced into the back seat where Tru slept soundly. For a while she drove in silence. Then she said, "You annoy Spock because of your emotions? But his first wife was human…"

T'Naisa did not want to discuss Lauren Fielding—the woman who still held Spock's heart, even from the grave.

"That was thoughtless of me," Antonia said contritely.

T'Naisa repressed a sigh. "It's alright. I can answer your question. You see, humans are supposed to be emotional. Vulcans aren't…although Yanash had plenty to say on that subject. Spock may be a Yanashite, but he was brought up the old way and that's hard to overcome."

As they drove up to the house, Jamie sprang off the front porch and ran over to T'Naisa's side of the car. When she got out, he grabbed her hand and started pulling her away from the house.

"Come here," he exclaimed, tugging at her. "I have something important to tell you!"

T'Naisa let the boy take her behind the barn, where she faced him with some amusement. "Okay Jamie, what's the big secret?"

Eyes aglow, the words burst from him. "It's a miracle! T'Naisa, it's a miracle!"

T'Naisa gave him an indulgent smile. "Miracle? Jamie, come on, what are you talking about?"

His excitement faded a bit. Clearly he had expected a more exuberant reaction.

"You don't believe me," he accused, "but it _is_ a miracle—it _is."_

"Okay," T'Naisa agreed, "maybe it is. Just tell me."

First, Jamie made her take a solemn vow of secrecy. Then he told her the story of his mother's portrait and how he had just found it in Antonia's loft.

"But it's not just my mom's picture anymore," he said with renewed excitement. "Teresa is in it, too! Don't you see? It _must_ be a miracle!"

T'Naisa's heart went heavy. "Have you told your father?"

"No." The boy's face fell. "I was snooping, and besides…"

"Besides what?"

"I think the painting would make him sad."

T'Naisa silently agreed. As for the mystery of the portrait, she could think of two likely explanations. Gently she said, "Jamie. It's been quite a while since you've seen that painting. A lot has happened. Are you sure Teresa wasn't always in it?"

"Yes, I'm sure!" Jamie said hotly. "We had that painting for a long time. It was just Mom. Now there's Teresa, too—not little, but like she was…at the end."

"In that case," T'Naisa said practically, "Antonia must have changed it. When she repaired the canvas, she added Teresa."

Jamie's face flushed with a depth of anger T'Naisa had never seen in the boy. His fierce, flaming eyes brought to mind something Spock had once said to her when he was in a far from congenial mood. _Vulcans are savages._ For all Jamie's human blood, he looked like a Vulcan…and at this moment he appeared chillingly savage.

Suddenly he exploded. "No, you're wrong! You don't know what you're talking about!"

With a brutal kick to her shin, he whirled and ran out of sight.

T'Naisa crumpled in agony. The emotional sting of Jamie's attack brought a gush of tears. It was a few minutes before she could settle her feelings, brush herself off, and limp back to the house. Jamie was nowhere in sight, but Antonia and Jim descended upon her with a flurry of questions and concern. Even Spock drew near, although he said nothing at all.

"I got kicked," T'Naisa admitted. Taking the seat that was offered to her, she rolled up her pant leg. It was not a pretty sight, but she was sure the damage was not too serious. "Nothing's broken. I don't need a doctor.

"Vulcans are fast healers," Spock mildly agreed.

Antonia brought out a first aid kit and set to work.

Jim shook his head. "That burro. He clipped me, once. I guess he likes children better than he likes adults."

T'Naisa avoided everyone's eyes and remained silent. She would let them believe it was the burro.

oooo

The first heat of Jamie's anger had diminished and he knew he was in serious trouble. From his hiding place, he heard people calling for him, but fear kept him from responding. It was almost time for dinner; he could smell food cooking. Gradually he came to the unhappy realization that staying out any later would only worsen his punishment.

Gathering his courage, he made his way to the porch, where Father was standing. T'Naisa sat nearby in a rustic-looking chair, one leg stretched out, and her face without expression.

Jamie stopped at the base of the porch steps and raised his eyes to his father. Spock looked very stern.

"Where have you been?" came the inevitable question.

Jamie gestured out beyond the barn. "Over that way."

"Did you not hear us calling?"

Jamie swallowed hard. "Yes, sir. I came."

"Not very quickly, I daresay. There was no reason for you to be anxious. Nothing will happen to the burro. Now go in and get ready for dinner."

For an instant Jamie was too stunned to move. So T'Naisa hadn't told—at least not yet. But what did Father mean about the burro? He gave T'Naisa a furtive glance and went inside.

A bit later, Jamie watched T'Naisa limp to the table and take her place beside his father. Aunt Toni offered a blessing, then gave thanks that T'Naisa had not been too badly hurt. As they ate dinner, everyone talked about her leg, and it became clear that they thought Paco had kicked her. Is that what T'Naisa had told them? He was glad that he was not in trouble, but it was not fair of T'Naisa to make up a lie and blame the burro.

The moment came when he could no longer stand it. Frowning, he blurted, "Paco wouldn't do that."

Father looked at him. With the lift of an eyebrow, he said, "It is not T'Naisa's fault the burro kicked her."

Jamie jumped up from the table and confronted T'Naisa. "Paco didn't kick you, and you know it! Why did you blame him?"

He saw tears forming in her eyes. Then his father came around the table and had him by the nape of the neck.

"Come with me," Father said, and they went into the downstairs bedroom where they were staying.

Spock did not understand what had come over his son. Until today, James had never shown T'Naisa anything but fondness and respect. Spock sat him down on the bed and stood over him.

"All this," Spock said, "in defense of a burro? James!"

The boy's face was stony. "She's not my mother."

Spock was surprised by the words, and his reaction to them was even more startling, for his thoughts were not entirely of Lauren. Suddenly he found himself rising—almost _emotionally_ —to T'Naisa's defense. She had devoted herself completely to the boy and deserved better from James.

Holding his voice level, he said, "That is a fact of which we are all aware. However, T'Naisa is your elder and she is…my wife. As such, it is your duty to respect her. You will go out and apologize. Immediately."

James sat unmoving. "She's not my mom," he repeated stubbornly.

"She may not be your mother," Spock retorted, "but she loves you. Until now, it had seemed that you love her. Now you have more concern for an animal. James, your behavior is illogical…and very unkind."

The boy offered no explanation.

Looking at his obstinate face, Spock reached a decision. "Very well. You know that Jim is taking us horseback riding tomorrow. Unless you apologize to T'Naisa, you will remain behind."

oooo

The horses were saddled and waiting.

T'Naisa stepped up to the huge tan beast intended for her use, and suffered a crisis of confidence. It was more than the bone bruise on her leg. This was the closest she had ever been to a horse and she was having second thoughts about riding.

"Need some help?" Jim asked with a smirk of amusement. "I don't know what it is about half-Vulcans and horses…"

"My leg is pretty sore," she gave as an excuse.

Jim began to walk over, but suddenly Spock was at her side.

"Allow me," her "husband" said.

He positioned her left foot in the stirrup. Placing his hands at her waist, he boosted her upward. Acutely aware of his touch, she swung her right leg over the horse and settled into the saddle. Her cheeks flushed as she looked down at him from what seemed a very great height.

"Thanks," she said, and picked up the reins.

Underneath her, the horse shifted its weight. She caught hold of the saddle horn and held tight.

"We'll go slowly," Jim promised, and sprang into the saddle of a grey and white Appaloosa. "But you don't have a thing to worry about. That horse is so gentle, I rode him when my legs were paralyzed. Biscuit belonged to my uncle."

T'Naisa watched Spock and marveled at the ease with which he mounted his own horse, an even larger, more energetic animal than Biscuit. Obviously he had some riding experience.

As Jim had assured her, they started out slowly. Both Jim and Spock offered occasional advice, and before long T'Naisa began to relax. The midsummer air was warm and sweet with the scent of pine trees. She tried not to dwell on the trouble with Jamie, but her thoughts kept returning to the boy, to all the fun he was missing, and the nagging fear that she had lost his love forever.

They came to a forest trail. Jim pulled ahead and there was just room enough for Spock to bring his horse next to T'Naisa. For a time they rode side-by-side, listening to birdsong and the clopping of their horses' hooves. Spock's nearness drew her thoughts back yet again to Jamie. Withholding information about his son was making her feel dishonest. She found herself torn between a desire to spare Jamie further punishment and the realization that the boy needed to be disciplined, even if it inflamed more anger against her.

Finally she said, "Spock, about Jamie…"

"Yes?" He looked at her expectantly. "Is there something more I should know?"

Choosing her words with care, she said, "Jamie was right. Paco didn't kick me."

Spock's eyebrow quirked. "But you said…" He stopped to scan his memory. "No. Actually, it was Jim who mentioned the burro."

With pounding heart, T'Naisa waited for his thoughts to settle, inevitably, upon Jamie.

Jim turned in his saddle and called back to them. "I have a surprise for you two! Wait till you see it!"

It was hard for Jim to contain his excitement. He had been hoping to get Spock out here ever since Uncle Lemuel moved in with a daughter and Jim bought the property. The idea of selling it to Spock had come to him last year, after the Vulcan retained custody of Jamie in court. Jim had suddenly remembered something the boy said one Thanksgiving Day before Lauren and Teresa died. Something about moving to Idaho, near his "Uncle Jim". Back then, it had been impractical.

The trail ended abruptly. Jim sent his horse across a shallow creek and rode into a small clearing—one of his favorite childhood haunts. Tall trees all but swallowed Lemuel's rustic cabin. Across the way, a sturdy barn stood empty.

Jim dismounted.

"Who lives here?" Spock asked from the saddle.

"No one, now," Jim replied. "Come take a look."

Spock got off his horse and helped T'Naisa down. Jim unlocked the door and led them through the tiny two bedroom cabin, explaining how he had come to own the Plum Creek property.

Looking around the vacant rooms, Spock said, "James has spoken of this place. He used to come here with you and help your uncle."

T'Naisa smiled wistfully. "Such a beautiful spot—so green, so peaceful. Wouldn't it be wonderful to live here?"

Jim saw it as the perfect opening. Turning to the couple, he said, "How would you like to own this little piece of heaven? Just the cabin and a few wooded acres. The grazing land is all I ever really wanted." And he quickly laid out the financial details.

T'Naisa's heart leaped, but of course, it was an impossible dream. They spent most of their time on Vulcan and they were not even married in the true sense of the word. She had no say in what Spock bought or where Spock lived. And though she received some payment for lecturing, she did not have enough steady income to buy the cabin for herself—not at the price Jim was asking, though it was quite reasonable and did not even call for a down payment.

Like an experienced salesman, Jim completed his pitch, then wandered off to the barn so Spock and T'Naisa could consider the matter in private.

The two of them stood in the small living room, Spock lost in his own thoughts while she awaited his logical argument against purchasing a cabin in the wilds of Idaho.

Softly she said, "This is awkward."

He looked at her, his dark eyes questioning.

She explained, "We're so seldom alone together…like this."

He nodded. Then he said, "You want this property."

It seemed a ridiculous question. He had already heard her opinion, not that it carried any weight. "Why are you asking me? What have I do with it? It's your money."

"You are my wife," he said matter-of-factly.

The breath caught in her throat. "Am I? Since when? That dreadful little parody in ShanaiKahr?"

The pain that flickered across his face touched her heart.

Not unkindly, he said, "May I remind you, that 'dreadful little parody' was your idea. You called it 'fun'." And he added, "At times, you must find our arrangement very trying…particularly now, the way James is behaving. I will not allow him to disrespect you. And while I am on the subject of James, you have not told me what happened to your leg."

"That's right," she said, "I haven't. You need to ask Jamie. He knows exactly what happened and he should be the one to tell you."

He raised an eyebrow at that, and they walked outside to where Jim awaited them in the clearing.

"Well?" Jim asked. "Are you going to think about it?"

"No," Spock replied, just as T'Naisa knew he would. "There is no further need to consider the proposition." Then he said, "We are going to buy it."

T'Naisa's mouth fell open. Overjoyed, she caught Spock in an embrace that nearly knocked him off his feet. Even the fact that he did not return the embrace could not dim her happiness. And later, as they were riding back to Jim's ranch, she found time to count even more reasons to celebrate.

Spock had come to her defense against Jamie. He had consulted her about the property. He had said, _"We_ are buying it." And as she gained enough confidence to let Biscuit gallop a bit, she began to realize that riding horses was _fun_.

By the time they arrived at the ranch, Spock had had more than his fill of horseback riding. A bit saddle sore, he strode into the house and found James reading from a padd. Taking the padd from his son's hands, he walked him out the back door and into the woods for a private discussion.

When they were well out of sight and earshot, Spock told him, "You will explain to me precisely how T'Naisa's leg was hurt, and you will do it now."

The boy's mouth twitched with emotion. "She told you!"

"No, she did not—but you will."

James stared at the carpet of pine needles in silence.

"Say it!"

The words burst from him. "Okay! I did it! I kicked her!"

Spock had hoped the boy was only hiding some foolish accident. He could scarcely believe that James would intentionally hurt T'Naisa. _"You_ kicked her. Intentionally?"

James nodded, tears welling.

"Why?" Spock asked, mystified.

The boy struggled for control.

"Why?" Spock repeated, more disappointed than angry.

Tearfully James explained about finding the portrait, about the "wonderful miracle", and how T'Naisa had ruined it all with her words.

This, Spock had not expected. He was quiet for so long that James peeked up at him and said, "I'm sorry…"

Coming to a decision, Spock told him, "We are going back inside. First, you will apologize to T'Naisa, and then I want to see that painting for myself."

T'Naisa had put off showering and sat alone in the living room, waiting to be sure that all was well with Jamie and Spock. She heard the back door open. Rising, she met the two of them as they entered the room. Jamie's eyes looked a bit red and he was clearly remorseful as he approached her.

"I don't know what got into me," he choked. "I shouldn't have kicked you. I shouldn't have talked to you that way, either."

T'Naisa's heart went out to him. "Jamie," she said tenderly.

He put her arms around her and as she held him close, Spock asked, "Is Antonia still in the loft?"

Jim was with Antonia when he heard footsteps on the stairs, then a knocking.

"Come in," he called, thinking that Spock and T'Naisa wanted to discuss the Plum Creek property.

They entered, bringing Jamie with them.

Jim said, "I was just telling Antonia that we're going to be neighbors. What do you think, Jamie?"

Jamie seemed confused, rather than excited. Spock and T'Naisa had sober expressions.

"What's going on?" Jim asked. "Have you changed your mind about the deal?"

"No," Spock said, "we are still buying Plum Creek."

Jamie brightened a bit and looked at his father. "Plum Creek? You're buying Lem's place?"

Spock gave him a stern look. "Not now, James. There is another matter at hand." He addressed Antonia. "With your permission, there is a canvas James would like very much to show me."

Jim met Antonia's eyes and he knew they were sharing the same sick feeling.

Antonia left her easel and walked over to Spock's son. "Jamie. You've been up here, haven't you? Looking around?"

Jamie stared at the floorboards and nodded. "I knew it was here somewhere. I just wanted to see it, that's all."

"I know." Reaching out, Antonia gently touched his shoulder. "It's not your fault, it's mine. I should have returned the painting to your father a long time ago." She looked with apology at Spock. "In a minute you'll see why I didn't."

Going over to a line of paintings, she pulled out one nearest the wall. As she lifted the portrait, its subject came into view, and each Vulcan face showed both pain and appreciation.

"Beautiful," Spock said softly, and the Kirks relaxed. The painting had passed the test.

Antonia said, "I don't know what made me add Teresa. Spock, I should have asked you first."

"I thought it was a miracle," Jamie admitted in a sad voice.

"Maybe, in a way, it was," T'Naisa said. _"Something_ inspired you to paint it."

Antonia nodded. "And something inspired Jamie to come up here, looking."

"A spirit of disobedience," Spock interjected.

Jim spoke up. "Well, it's all out in the open now. Honestly, we didn't know what to do about that painting. It's been hanging here on the loft wall for a couple of years."

"And for now," Spock said quietly, "it can remain here."

Jim took the painting from Antonia and placed it back on its hanger. Lauren and Teresa gazed with placid beauty upon the loft. There was grief in Spock's eyes, and on T'Naisa's lovely face a look of sorrow that suggested forlorn hope. Not for the first time Jim thought, _she loves him._ And he found himself wondering if someday they might move beyond their troubled, tragic past and find—if not happiness—at least some Vulcan form of contentment together.

oooo

It was not difficult for Spock to devise a suitable punishment for James. The boy would be banned from Plum Creek until he completed two essays to Spock's satisfaction. "The Importance of Obedience" and "Controlling Negative Emotions".

Spock rejected the first hasty attempts as unworthy of a twelve-year-old, no doubt giving James some practice controlling his anger. By the third day James settled down and began to produce some acceptable writing. Meanwhile, Spock and T'Naisa rented a groundcar and worked at putting the cabin in order. There was some cleaning to be done, along with a few minor repairs. They replaced the ancient woodstove with a modern heating unit, installed a small food replicator, and purchased three beds.

Spock downloaded some other furniture and useful items from the transport grid, where they had been waiting in storage since he gave up his rental house in Phoenix. The reminders of his days with Lauren gave him twinges of grief, but the day was long past when he had asked Yanash what it meant for a deceased person to "be with God". Spock had no doubt that the souls of his beloved wife and daughter were still very much alive. And here on Earth, Spock's own life was continuing on.

Once the cabin was fit for habitation, he celebrated by taking T'Naisa to a restaurant in Pinehaven. Over lunch, it occurred to him how pleasant the past days had been as the two of them worked together and shared various plans for the isolated cabin. This would not have been possible on Vulcan, where they were constantly on guard against the slightest suggestion of unseemly conduct. Even here they must take care, and mutually agreed that they would not spend the night at Plum Creek until James was able to join them.

"For the sake of James and of propriety," they both said, and though the discussion ended there, Spock saw in T'Naisa's eyes another, unspoken reason to wait for his son. A year ago T'Beth had warned him, but until this week he had refused to entertain the idea that his "wife" had tender feelings for him. He was a telepath. There had been no mistaking the outflow of T'Naisa's emotion each time he touched her body. Yet knowing this, he had sanctioned a living arrangement that would bring them into close proximity.

Why? Strange as it seemed, he wanted to please her.

oooo

When at last James came to Plum Creek, he did not accompany Spock and T'Naisa in the groundcar. He came by way of a riding trail on Jim's buckskin, Biscuit, pulling Paco behind him. Upon arriving, he proudly unsaddled the horse and saw that the animals were well cared-for in the corral beside the barn. Then he happily investigated the changes to the cabin before venturing into the surrounding woods.

They had eaten lunch, and Spock stood with T'Naisa on the porch, gazing out at the wild plum trees along the creek that gave their property its name. In the pristine mountain silence, a strange yearning tugged at his heart.

As if reading his thoughts, T'Naisa said, "It would be so nice just to live here always."

Spock left her side and sat on the stone porch steps. He did not say aloud how much he liked this forested area, so different from the hot desert landscapes of Vulcan and Arizona. Instead, he brought up an idea.

"I have been thinking…about the growing number of Yanashites here on Earth. With Sorel's approval and sufficient funding, we might convert the barn into a retreat house. It is large enough to accommodate a modest ground floor temple with a complex of rooms upstairs. Our Earthside priest could periodically visit and offer Kuru and other sacraments to our guests. We could lecture about our days with Yanash."

T'Naisa was silent for so long that he turned around and looked up at her. The halfling's face was strangely unreadable.

"You dislike the idea," he ventured to guess.

She shrugged. "I suppose it's selfish to keep this all for ourselves. Your plan would certainly give us a reason to spend more time here. Of course, there's your liaison with the Vatican, but a retreat house could keep us in Idaho all through the warm months…or even longer." And softly she added, "How beautiful the snow must be."

"What you have just described," Spock said with some amusement, "is an ulterior motive."

A pale green flush spread over her cheeks. With downcast eyes she said, "I'm far from perfect. You of all people know that."

Spock felt his heart going out to her, and the inner movement disturbed him. "We are none of us perfect, T'Naisa…otherwise we would have no need for the Shiav." Quite unnecessarily he added, "There is also a part of me that longs to hoard this for myself."

At first he did not understand why she suddenly turned from him and retreated into the house. But reviewing his statement, he realized that he had said "myself" instead of "ourselves". Rather than follow her inside, he let the remark stand.

oooo

That night, Spock lay down to sleep in the little room he shared with his son.

A drowsy voice spoke in the darkness. "I'm so glad you bought this place…"

Spock's mouth curved into a smile. He, too, felt curiously content here. Teresa would have loved the cabin. And Lauren…

The smile faded. His thoughts went to the portrait hanging in Antonia's loft and he decided that he would not bring it here where James would look upon it on a daily basis. If there was another consideration—one that involved T'Naisa and perhaps even himself—he quickly drove it from his mind. He felt sure that T'Beth would welcome the painting, and there at her home all the family could see it from time to time.

Though the cabin walls were thick, he heard crickets and frogs, an owl, a sudden rustle of wings. As sleep drew near, he was reminded of a poem by Li Bai that his mother made him read aloud during his reeducation on Vulcan. It had seemed so alien then.

 **"You ask me why I dwell in the green mountain;**

 **I smile and make no reply for my heart is free of care.**

 **As the peach-blossom flows downstream and is gone into the unknown,**

 **I have a world apart that is not among men."**

There were other poems about flutes and wine and hard journeys; even one about missing a woman's love. These days, the poems no longer seemed so strange to Spock. More and more he was coming to appreciate Li Bai's ancient verses.

oooOOooo


End file.
